


Playing Doctor

by TheseusInTheMaze



Series: Kinkbruary 2021 [10]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Age Play, F/F, Female Ejaculation, Kinkbruary (Doctor Who), Medical Play, Oral Fixation, Vibrators, consensual drug use, injection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-17 12:41:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29350626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheseusInTheMaze/pseuds/TheseusInTheMaze
Summary: This isn't how Clara usually plays doctor (or Doctor).
Relationships: Thirteenth Doctor/Clara Oswin Oswald
Series: Kinkbruary 2021 [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2139585
Comments: 8
Kudos: 34





	Playing Doctor

**Author's Note:**

> Day 10 of kinkbruary! Medical play! I am going to go _so_ self indulgent here. More age play!

Clara sat on the exam table, and she swung her feet. 

Of course the TARDIS would have an exam room. It had a fake classroom, it had a swimming pool, it had a dungeon, why _wouldn't_ it have a fake exam room. Although it very much reminded Clara of her own pediatrician's exam room, which was probably the point. Did the TARDIS have some kind of psychic wallpaper, or something?

That sounded like something out of Willy Wonka. Although come to think of it, the Doctor was very Willy Wonka. Sort of. Although hadn't Roald Dahl been a prick? It felt like she'd read something about that, but going down that road makes her want to find her phone and look it up, and this wasn't the time for it, was it?

The paper under her rustled, and the cloth gown that was covering her up was soft, but not very warm. Her nipples were already getting hard, and goose bumps were starting to rise up and down her arms, her back. 

_Has the Doctor ever been to a proper doctor's office, I wonder_ , Clara wondered idly, rubbing her hands together to try to warm them up. _She really managed to capture the feel of the place. Although technically the TARDIS is the one who made the room, so maybe all of the essential doctor's office-y bits were just.. plucked from my head, or from other companion's heads._

Clara made a face, wrinkling her nose. That wasn't a path she wanted to go down.

Luckily, she didn't have to, because just then, the Doctor walked in.

Clara blinked. 

The Doctor looked... normal. Alarmingly normal. A pair of slacks, a pair of clogs, a white blouse, a white coat. She had a stethoscope around her neck, and an open, easy expression. Clara hadn't ever seen the Doctor looking so _normal_. 

She hadn't thought it was possible. 

"Hello, Clara," the Doctor said, and she smiled broadly. It probably would have scared a real child, come to think of it. It was a good thing the two of them were just role playing. "Your mummy and your daddy said you haven't been feeling well."

"I've been fine," Clara said, and she looked down at her feet to keep from giggling. It was all a bit silly, wasn't it?

"That's not what your mummy and daddy said," the Doctor said, and she was doing... some kind of silly sing-song voice. It was enough to get on Clara's nerves, and she wrinkled her nose.

"Well, they were wrong," said Clara. She pressed her feet together, and then the Doctor's feet were entering her field of vision.

"Well, we need to give you a check up, regardless," the Doctor said. "And you've got an immunization due."

Clara was startled enough to look back up at the Doctor, frowning. "Immunization?" 

"Your boosters aren't up to date," the Doctor said, and she was taking something out of her pocket. It was a hypodermic, and some of the old anxiety flared up. 

"I don't want it," Clara said.

"If you're a brave girl, you'll get a treat," said the Doctor. She smiled again, and she held the hypodermic needle up. "And I can't continue the rest of the examination until you've gotten your shot."

"Pretty sure that's out of order," Clara said, which made the Doctor wrinkle her nose.

"You're breaking character," the Doctor complained.

"Sorry," said Clara. 

"So we're gonna give you your shot first," said the Doctor, "and then I can do my examination, and we can see what's wrong. How does that sound?"

"Can you just do the examination? I don't want a shot." Clara gave her best pout. She knew that the Doctor liked it when she pouted. 

"It'll help you," the Doctor said. "I promise."

Clara licked her lips, looked down at her feet, then up at the Doctor. "Can I get a treat?" 

"We'll see," said the Doctor. "Can you be a big girl for me and give me a shoulder?" 

Clara sighed, and she let the neck of the gown pass over one shoulder. Her hair was loose, and it tickled against her bare skin. Then the Doctor was pushing it over Clara's other shoulder, and taking out a little alcohol swab.

"You're a very brave girl," said the Doctor earnestly, and she was carefully opening up a small alcohol swab. "This is going to sting a little bit, but once we've gotten it done, we can continue the examination."

Clara recalled the conversation they'd had about this before, when the Doctor had asked if she wanted any "help" getting into the mindset. Clara had made her explain what, exactly, that help would be, and then she'd agreed, if only for curiosity's sake.

She trusted the Doctor.

Mostly.

“Now, this is going to sting a little bit,” the Doctor said, and before Clara had a chance to say anything, there was a swipe of something cold on her arm. Then there was a sharpness in her arm, and a shot of… cold? Warmth? She wasn’t sure what it was, but then the needle was out of her arm, and there was a swab of cotton pressed into the spot on her arm.

“Ow,” Clara said, which felt a little bit late. 

“I know,” the Doctor said, her tone soothing. “That probably hurt a little, didn't it? But you were very brave.” She patted Clara on the head, and then she was putting a plaster on the spot where the needle had gone in. 

“That was fast,” Clara said. She swung her socked feet, and she looked into the Doctor’s face. She wasn’t sure what to expect, exactly - the Doctor had promised her it would be safe. Heck, the whole medical scene had come up because the Doctor had wanted to give her the shot and she’d said it had sounded like something at the doctor’s office, and, well…

Well. 

“What can I say? I’m good at my job.” The Doctor grinned, clearly pleased with herself.

“Modest,” Clara said. 

“That’s a big word,” the Doctor countered. “Did your mummy and daddy teach you that one?”

“I like to read,” Clara said defensively. 

“I like to read too,” the Doctor said, and then she was going to the little counter nearby, to the little jars that had… stuff in them. There were instruments as well, and Clara felt like she knew the names of them, if she looked a little closer.

Hm.

Was the drug kicking in already? 

“Now,” said the Doctor, “open your mouth and say ‘ah’ for me.” 

Clara opened her mouth, said ‘ah’, and the Doctor pressed a tongue depressor down on her tongue and a light was shone down her throat. “What d’you see?” She tried to ask, but it came out all garbled. 

“Wanna try that again?” The Doctor took the tongue depressor off, threw it out.

“What d’you see?” Clara asked, and she pressed her knees together. She was starting to get dizzy, light headed. Her heart was beating in her chest, and she was _aware_ of it, of the way her lungs filled and deflated. 

“Just you,” the Doctor said, and her eyes were on Clara’s face now.

If Clara was a little bit more put together, she might have blushed, or said something sassy. Right now, it was a little more comfortable to keep looking at the Doctor. She pressed her own toes together, and curled them. 

“Let’s check your heartbeat,Clara,” the Doctor said, and she put the… thingy. What was that part? The part that touched the chest? 

“What’s that bit?” Clara patted the little bit of metal touching her chest. She wanted… What did she want? She wanted something in her mouth. Was that something she normally felt, that she just suppressed so much she didn’t notice? Or was whatever drug the Doctor had given her making her more orally fixated?

She knew, broadly, what the drug would do. She trusted the Doctor enough to know that she wasn’t in danger. But the specifics were a mystery, and was beginning to think that she should have probed a little deeper. 

“That’s a stethoscope,” said the Doctor. “It’s so I can hear your heart, to make sure it’s beating okay. Do you want to hear?”

Clara nodded, and then there was the familiar _lub-dub_ of her own heart, echoing the throb between her legs. She used a clumsy hand to press the part she didn’t know the name of against the Doctor’s chest, and she heard the double heartbeat. 

She could have gotten lost in it.

“Clara,” said the Doctor, and her voice was loud through it. 

“Doctor,” Clara said back.

“I am the Doctor.” The Doctor grinned. “Very good.” She pressed the stethoscope against Clara’ snack. “Take a deep breath now, please.”

Clara took a deep breath. 

“Very good. And another?” The stethoscope moved across her back. 

Clara took another.

“Very good. Now.” The Doctor rubbed her hands together. “Head back, please.”

Clara tilted her head back, and she stared up at the ceiling. There was a poster of a kitten on it - not saying “hang in there, baby,” thankfully, because Clara had always felt sorry for that kitten. It was the right mix of saccharine and faintly worrying that got under her skin. Was the kitten okay?

Was this kitten okay? It was curled up on a mat, and it seemed to be sleeping, the tail over its nose.

“Kitten,” Clara murmured, as the Doctor felt along her lymph nodes.

“Very good, Clara,” the Doctor said. “That _is_ a kitten.”

“Is the kitten okay?” Clara licked her lips, and she sucked gently on her lower lip. _Can I suck my thumb?_

The Doctor looked up at the ceiling, and she grinned. “Oh yeah,” she told Clara. “After that picture was taken, she got to play with a nice ball of yarn, and she wrestled with her sister.” The Doctor tucked a poiece of Clara’ shair behind one ear, and her touch was tender. 

“Sister?” Clara could feel her own body, sitting on that table, and it was heavy. It was made of meat and bone, it was made of herself, and she was made of herself, and the Doctor was someone else, but was also a little bit her as well.

“Oh yes. A very small litter, but they’re nice cats. They live with a nice lady, she spoils them. Even has one of those screened in porches for cats. Cateos, they’re called. Isn’t that a nice word?” The Doctor’s hands had gone to the ties of Clara’s gown, and she untied it deftly. She didn’t _ask_ , she just… did, and then she was guiding Clara to lie down flat. 

“Cateo,” Clara echoed. She was staring up at the kitten, and she let her eyes drift shut. The Doctor pushed the gown open, and her breasts were being touched, squeezed. It was oddly impersonal, and the Doctor’s fingers were cool. She squirmed, and she looked down the line of her own body, to see the Doctor’s bare hands and her own nipples growing hard in the cooler air. 

The Doctor tapped along her belly, and Clara wasn’t sure what it was that the Doctor was ,checking for, but it felt odd. She squirmed, and the Doctor put a soothing hand on her leg. “I know it feels weird,” the Doctor said, and she was trying to use a calming tone of voice. “I just need to check one more thing, and then we’ll be done, okay?”

Clara’s thumb was in her mouth, when had she put her thumb in her mouth? She had sucked her thumb when she was little, she’d had a bottle as well. She’d kept drinking from the bottle longer than she probably should have, according to her dentist, and she missed her bottle now. 

Was that odd?

_Whatever the Doctor gave me must have packed quite a punch_ , Clara thought distantly, and she was distantly aware of the Doctor carefully guiding her lower down the table. Time seemed to be speeding up and slowing down at the same time - she watched the kitten, and the paper crackled under her back. She was sweating as well, and it slid down her sides, the backs of her knees.

“Your mummy and daddy have said you’ve been wetting the bed,” the Doctor said, and she was guiding Clara’s feet into stirrups. Where had the stirrups come from? 

“I’m not,” Clara mumbled. 

“So you’re not having accidents?” The Doctor was doing… something. Clara wasn’t giving a lot of attention to… anything. She stroked her own hair, twisted it around her fingers, gently pressing the tips of it against the pads of her fingers. 

“I…,” Clara wanted to say, but whatever argument she had trailed off into oblivion, because she was inexplicably taken in by how soft her socks were against her toes. She wriggled her toes carefully, slowly, and she sucked her thumb in time with it. 

“Oh, Clara,” the Doctor said, and she squeezed Clara’s inner thigh.

_That’s me_ , Clara agreed, and then she squeaked, because the Doctor’s fingers were trailing between her labia. “Doctor?” Her voice was garbled by her thumb. 

“You’re going to get sick if you keep sucking your thumb like that,” the Doctor said. “Luckily I’ve got something for that.” 

A gloved hand was tugging at her wrist, and then her thumb was pulled out of her mouth. A rubber nipple was pressed against her lower lip, and then her mouth was full. She sucked, and it moved in her mouth.

“There we go,” said the Doctor. “A nice dummy for you. Less likely to get you sick.” 

_Where did she even get a dummy big enough for me?_ Clara sucked the dummy, as the Doctor did… something. Did whatever it was she was doing, because the table was moving under her, and the dummy was moving in her mouth. _I must look really silly_ , Clara thought. 

“I’m going to run a quick test for you,” said the Doctor, and then something was being pushed into her. Something thick, and she grunted, squeezing around it. “Have you ever had something like this inside of you, Clara?”

Clara concentrated on the thing inside of her - it was smooth. It was cool, cooler than the Doctor’s fingers. It was… thick. Thick and solid, and she kept sucking on the dummy. The simple pull of it in her mouth was just… satisfying. Comforting. Was it because of whatever it was the Doctor had given her? Or was that just how she _worked_ now? Would that be how she worked forever? Or would that be just while she was on this weird space drug that the Doctor had given her.

“If you can hold it, you’re a big girl,” said the Doctor. “If you can be a big girl for me, I’ll tell your mummy and daddy that you’re a big girl.” 

_You’re repeating yourself_ , Clara wanted to say, but then the thing inside of her pressed against her g-spot, and who cared about any clever retort?

Well.

Clara still cared about clever retorts, and then the thing started to _vibrate_. Her hips jerked forward, and her toes curled, her head thrown back. It _thudded_ against the table, and it made her eyes vibrate behind her sockets. She made an embarrassing noise in the back of her throat, and then she went utterly limp.

“You’re being such a good girl for me,” the Doctor crooned. “Look at what a good girl you’re being for me, Clara.” The Doctor’s thumb was on Clara’s clit, and the vibrator was still pressing against her g-spot. Her cunt was squeezing it tightly, and the orgasm seemed to be building and building. It almost hurt, and she was… floating. 

She was floating, connected to her body, but not. She was biting down on the nipple of the dummy, and the pressure seemed to be getting _moreso_. The Doctor was moving her thumb faster, and the vibrator was rocking slowly, gently, pressure was building and filled her and... then it hit her.

The orgasm was just a wave. A wash of pleasure, of heat, and it was _wet_ , her cunt pulsing, her body lit up from within. There were tears dripping down her face, into her ears, soaking into her hair. 

“Oh, Clara,” the Doctor said, and Clara couldn’t tell what it was that was in the Doctor’s tone. “You had another accident.” The toy was pulled out of her, and the buzz of it filled the small exam room. The Doctor turned off the toy, and she dumped it into the sink. 

Clara woozily got up on her elbows, looking over her belly, between her breasts, the softness of her thighs. “You wet,” the Doctor said. 

“‘S’not pee,” Clara said around the dummy in her mouth, looking at the wet spot on the Doctor’s white lab coat. She’d squirted before. She’d had this argument. 

“You’re still wet,” the Doctor said. “So you’ll need some special protection, hm?” A warm, wet wipe was being brushed against Clara’s vulva now, and Clara sighed. 

_You’re a pervert, Doctor,_ Clara said, and she was smiling around the dummy. She looked forward to what, exactly, the Doctor was planning next.

And also all the ribbing. There was going to be _so much_ ribbing. When the table stopped moving under her.

**Author's Note:**

> Do you have an interest in Kinkbruary? You can find out more about it, including the prompts at https://twitter.com/_zaffrin/status/1352316453232504833
> 
> Also, come find me on twitter, TheseusInTheMaz!
> 
> Y'know, I think this is the first one I'm vaguely _embarassed_ about, so, uh, A+.


End file.
